


Silent Bonds

by Tarlan



Series: Silent World [12]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-04-19
Updated: 2003-04-19
Packaged: 2017-10-20 13:31:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/213287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarlan/pseuds/Tarlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love and Honor</p>
            </blockquote>





	Silent Bonds

Chris looked up at the sound of an approaching horse, simultaneously reaching for the gun belt that he had placed near to hand and slinging it over his shoulder so the gun was in easy reach. He raised a hand to shield his eyes, and then he grinned as he recognized the very familiar outline of the man riding the horse. Chris looped the gun belt back over a nail driven into the porch support and wiped away some of the heavy sweat from his forehead. He raised his hand in welcome, acknowledging the wide grin on Vin's face.

"Long way from town, Vin."

"Not much going on there... and I figured ya could use these supplies. Thought I'd save you the trip back to town to fetch them."

"That's mighty kind of you, Vin." Chris grinned slyly. "That the only reason why you came all the way out here?"

Vin stepped down from his horse and tied the reins around the small hitching post, glancing at Chris askance with a devilish look in his bright blue eyes. Vin pushed his hat back and reached for the ladle. He dipped it into the fresh water and drank deeply before answering.

"Maybe... and maybe not. You know of any good reason why a man might wanna... come... all the way out here?"

"Oh, I could think of a few good reasons."

"Any one reason in particular?"

Chris laughed. He had been working hard since sun-up and Vin's arrival made for a welcome break. He wiped his sweaty palms against the sides of his pants and walked over to accept a ladle-full of water from Vin. Chris took a mouthful, swirling it around his mouth before swallowing, and then he tipped the rest of the contents over his head. He shook his head, his hair whipping about and splattering water over Vin, laughing anew at the disgruntled exclamation. Strong hands grabbed him, callused palms cupping his face tightly to halt his movement, and then Vin leaned in and kissed him hard. Chris sighed in appreciation, welcoming the firm lips and arrogant tongue. Vin pulled back, retaining his hold on Chris's face, and he sniffed loudly, nostrils flaring before he grinned once more.

"Damn, Larabee. A few more hours and you'll be a little ripe... but there's something about fresh sweat on a man that makes me hornier than a--"

"That any man's sweat... or you got some particular sweat in--"

Chris teased Vin, and earned himself a curse before his words were cut off by Vin's mouth possessing his once more.

"Let's take this inside, Cowboy...before I do something unseemly out here in the open."

"Ain't nothing wrong with unseemly behavior this far from town. Not like there's anyone around here to see us."

Vin growled and nuzzled against Chris's neck, lapping up the salty droplets trickling down into the hollow of his throat.

"Can't be so sure of that. Josiah mentioned riding out to give you a hand with the roof sometime."

His warm breath sent ripples of pleasure flowing through Chris, but then Vin pulled away, dropping his hand to grab Chris around one biceps. Chris chuckled, meekly allowing Vin to drag him inside the shack. Once they crossed the threshold, Vin tugged hard on his arm to pull him aside, and then he whipped round to kick the door shut behind them. He pushed up against Chris, forcing him backwards until Chris could feel the hard edge of the table against the back of his thighs. Firm lips claimed his once more, and he submitted to the insistent probing, opening his lips to allow Vin's tongue to sweep inside. His reached up and knocked Vin's hat aside, dragging his fingers through the wild mane of dusty, sweaty hair as he deepened the kiss.

Vin ground his hips against Chris, the hardened mass at his groin bumping and grinding against Chris's own engorged shaft as he sobbed out his need. He grasped Chris around the hips, partially cupping the swell of ass cheeks.

"Need you, Cowboy. Need you now."

Chris didn't bother replying, letting his actions speak for him as he leaned back, allowing Vin to heave him onto the flat surface of the table. A tin mug and used plate from breakfast skittered across the top, falling over the edge to clatter upon the wooden floor. Chris toed off his boots and then he gasped as agile fingers made short work in opening his pants. At Vin's impatient encouragement, he lifted his hips to allow Vin to strip the clothing from his body. He grinned lustfully when he saw Vin's eternal gratitude reflected in the lust-darkened eyes as he noticed Chris had taken to wearing separate undergarments rather than the all-in-one union suit that had been the norm in the past. It had made life a whole lot simpler for these quick encounters. Vin pulled the lower half off Chris and then stared down at his exposed prize. He licked his lips; the hunger mirrored in his eyes as he began to fumble with the fastenings to his own pants.

Chris could feel the heat on his cheeks, flushed with pleasure and anticipation as he waited for Vin to make his next move. His body was thrumming, blood pumping hard through his veins heading southwards and leaving him light-headed. He let his arms fall outwards across the table top, like a martyr on the cross, open and expectant.

"Damn, Larabee. If you ain't the--"

Vin shook his head as words failed him, his hands pushing up the undershirt to reveal Chris's naked chest. Moaning, he writhed in pleasure as Vin caught one nipple and toyed with it between a thumb and forefinger while he licked and sucked on the other. With the slightest nudge, he spread his legs wider, allowing easier access as Vin leaned in closer between his open thighs.

Vin pulled back; his desire filled eyes darting about the small shack and, finally, coming to rest on the flat pan lying on top of the stove. He reached over and scooped up two fingers of bacon fat, smoothing the cool grease between his fingertips and, all the while, his blue eyes burned into Chris, silently sending commands. Chris obeyed, pulling his knees closer to his body to offer himself fully to his lover, and he sighed as strong fingers teased at the entrance to his body. He gasped as one finger rimmed the slowly yielding muscle before plunging inside; closing his eyes and letting his head drop back as he reveled in the exquisite pressure and the knowledge of whose fingers were playing him to such perfection. He gasped anew as the finger stroked across the sweet spot deep inside, his murmurs of approval giving unspoken encouragement for more. Vin rewarded him over and over, stroking across the sensitive place until Chris could feel the first tingle of release ebbing over him. He cried out in annoyance and frustration when the incredible sensations ended abruptly.

Chris opened his eyes and stared hard at Vin as if hoping he could bend the man to his will by the intensity of his gaze alone. As usual, it made no impact. Vin merely laughed as he stroked his own hard shaft, smearing the remaining grease over the large head until it glistened in the low light seeping through the shack's small windows.

"You want this, Larabee?" Vin stroked himself, eyelids half-masted in pleasure. "Hmm? Then you got to say please."

"Dammit, Vin. No time for playing games."

Vin moaned softly as he continued to play with himself, fingers gliding in long, firm strokes along the length; his callused thumb smoothing over the flared head and smearing droplets of precome to mingle with the glistening bacon fat.

"Goddammit, Vin."

"Was that a please?"

Chris trembled and swore softly as Vin ran his finger down the length of Chris's straining erection, over the taut ball sac and along the crease to tease at the exposed hole. He arched upwards, hoping to capture Vin's finger and draw it deep inside his body once more but the finger carried on with its relentless light teasing over his hot flesh.

"Jesus Christ."

"Nope. Just me here, Cowboy... and I'm still waiting."

"Please."

Chris whispered roughly, moaning as the finger probed the relaxed muscle, slipping inside to rim the inner wall. He closed his eyes as Vin chuckled mischievously, his voice cracking as he pleaded louder. Chris cried out in a mixture of pleasure and pain as the thick, blunt head plunged inside him; throwing his head back, stretching out his arms wide so he could grasp the edges of the table. He arched his back, wrapping his legs tightly around Vin's waist as Vin withdrew before thrusting back inside. The thick shaft filled him, stretching him until it was impossible to separate the agony from the ecstasy. It bumped over the sensitive place sending shocks of pleasure racing through him as Vin penetrated deeper with each hard thrust.

He barely noticed the hand settling around his shaft, encircling him tightly and sliding in perfect sync with the ever-increasing thrusts into his ass. A sensation radiated out from his belly, seeping over his nerves like warm honey and he gasped as the exquisite release overtook him, feeling the hot splashes of his seed upon his belly and chest. The heat of Vin's release filled him, bathing his innards in liquid fire as Vin's erratic thrusts slowed.

Chris opened his eyes as he felt the heavy weight of Vin's head settle on his chest. He released his grip on the table edge and stroked the damp curls of light brown hair, making soothing noises of affection and satisfaction. Vin raised his head and stared into his lover's sated eyes; smiling warmly.

"Like nothing better than to lay here all day but I'm supposed to relieve JD in a few hours."

Chris sighed, having already figured that this had to be just a quick interlude rather than a long, drawn out loving session. It seemed to him that they were granted too few opportunities to take off alone, but it was still better than having nothing at all. He decided it was not worth making it hard on both of them by insisting Vin stay longer.

"And I have work to do. This shack ain't about to build itself, you know."

Vin sighed and pulled away, his softened shaft slipping from Chris's body. He gazed down at the figure still sprawled half-naked across the table and felt renewed heat tease at his groin. Chris's undershirt was rucked up, revealing a lean but muscular belly and chest glistening with sweat and spent seed. His pleasure-softened sex lay limp in the crease of thigh and abdomen. His hair was in disarray with some sweat-soaked strands plastered to his forehead while others fanned out on the table beneath his head. His lips held an erotic plumpness, swollen from Vin's hard kisses, and his eyelids were half-shuttered, with the fern-green eyes glowing with inner satisfaction.

Vin knew he looked just as disheveled, with his pants still open, his clothing smeared in Chris's seed from where he had collapsed upon his lover, and his now-flaccid shaft hanging free. He could feel the sweat trickling between his shoulder blades, drawn from his body by the heat of the day and from his recent exertions. He felt flushed with power as he stood over Chris, knowing this man had been his for the taking, knowing Chris had willingly submitted to him, allowing himself to be possessed so deeply and thoroughly. As he drew away to gather up a wash cloth, he felt the silver thread of their silent bond holding fast, knowing it would stretch thin whenever they were apart, but hoping it would never break.

With utmost tenderness, he cleaned his lover, gently wiping the cloth over the firm ridges of stomach muscle and then across the strong pectorals. He watched, mesmerized, as a nipple hardened anew then glanced up to find Chris's heat-filled eyes staring at him. He wanted to say the three little words that leaped into his head, wanted to share the depth of his feelings for this incredible man but he couldn't. Vin dropped his eyes and when he raised them again, he saw a warmth in Chris's green gaze that told him that Chris had heard his unspoken words - and returned them - though neither might ever say them aloud.

The moment was broken by the sound of Vin's horse snorting loudly outside, reminding Vin that Josiah had mentioned riding out here today. He grimaced and pulled away, rinsing out the cloth and handing it to Chris so he could finish cleaning himself while Vin straightened out his own clothing and stepped outside to meet any potential threat to their relationship.

"What's the matter, boy?"

Vin patted his horse on the neck, before rubbing one twitching ear affectionately. He scanned the surrounding countryside, glancing back quickly as Chris walked out the shack behind him. Vin shook his head slightly to let Chris know he could see nothing amiss, and then smiled as Chris went straight back to the saw he had been using when Vin first rode up. Moments later, the sound of wood being cut filled the air. Vin sighed. Whatever had spooked his horse was nowhere in sight, and Vin wondered if it was just the rustle of some wild animal that had caught the ear of his ever-skittish horse. He stepped over to the water butt, lifted the lid and brought a ladle-full of warm water to his lips as he continued to scan the denser brush at the edges of this piece of open land.

"Sure is a pretty spot, Chris. Though I never figured you for the settling kind."

"Well, I wouldn't say I'm settling down. Just looking for a little peace and quiet."

"Can't argue with that."

Chris stopped sawing and stared across at Vin, wiping one hand on his pants as he reached towards Vin. Vin could read the sorrow in Chris's eyes that their moment of freedom had come to an end; that they could not find the peace and quiet they sought for even a little time... no matter where they were. This time it had been Vin's horse that had broken that spell, placing both men on their guard once more. His hand clasped Vin's forearm in the one intimacy that they could allow where others might be watching.

"Thanks for the supplies."

"Don't mention it."

Vin touched the brim of his hat in a silent gesture that held more than respect and grinned when Chris slapped him lightly on the arm. He shook his head and walked over to his horse, mounting swiftly, and then he rode away without looking back. When he crossed the edge of the clearing into the shadow of the trees, Vin slowed, his senses still uneasy as he wondered what kind of animal had spooked his horse. Suddenly, his sixth sense for danger kicked in hard as his sharp hearing caught the sound of more horses on the slight breeze. He eased his horse around and took a few steps back to where he could see Chris's figure in the distance.

Two horses came into view from the other side of the shack and he saw Chris slip the gun belt over his shoulder. Vin slid from his horse and sneaked back through the tall grass; watching uneasily as a Mexican slipped down from behind the rider on the second horse. He had a strong feeling he knew what these men wanted, and was not sure if they would leave without getting what they wanted.

"That horse ain't for sale."

Vin's senses were strongly attuned to his lover so he, easily, caught the soft voice drifting on the breeze, letting it caress his hearing even as he strained to hear the other man's response.

"Y ahora, Alonzo. What are you gonna do about this?"

There was no doubt in Vin's mind that the fancy Mexican had ordered this Alonzo to kill Chris, and Vin moved faster through the long grass. He had to trust that Chris could beat Alonzo and, seconds later, he watched as Alonzo clutched his gun arm as a single gunshot cracked the tranquility of the day. Vin wasted no more time, knowing he was close enough to bring one of the remaining two men down if necessary. He fired the mare's leg into the air, twice, to gain their attention and then stood up with his gun aimed directly at the fancy leader on the white horse. He walked forward slowly, knowing that each step closer made the killing shot just a little easier.

The wounded Mexican climbed back up behind a man dressed all in black, and the three galloped away.

Vin reached Chris, his eyes raking the lean figure, silently asking if he was all right. Once reassured, he nodded his head once, acknowledging the gratitude in Chris's eyes before gazing back in the direction that the Mexicans had taken.

"So much for peace and quiet."

Chris gave a wry grin.

"Looks like I'm finished here for the day. Might as well pack up and head for town."

"You figure they're headed our way?"

"Possible."

Vin sighed. "Then I'd best get back to town and put the others on their guard."

With a last look of reassurance, they parted with the silent promise that they would meet up in the town within the hour.

****

The town was quiet when Chris arrived but Chris caught Vin's eye as he rode past and saw a glint that warned him that their suspicions had been correct. Chris nodded lightly and then carried on over to the livery where the owner was standing outside staring along the main street.

"Howdy, Chris."

Chris nodded, dismounted and handed the reins over to the man, willing to pay another to see to his horses needs on this occasion. He offered his thanks as the livery master led his black gelding away, and though about the casual greeting.

There were few people who felt they could address him with such familiarity and get away with it. Most of the townsfolk were still a little uneasy around him, preferring to distance themselves by calling him Mr. Larabee. Tiny was one of the few who had come to know him well enough to realize he was not just some cold-blooded killer hired on to deter an even badder element from preying on the town and its people. The livery master once told Chris that he could tell a lot about a man from the horse he rode. Mean people were cruel to their horses, either uncaring of its needs or too vicious in the use of spurs and the bit. Chris had to concur. Both he and Tiny had seen many a horse with a scarred mouth and scabs over its flanks, but never on any of the horses ridden by the Seven protectors.

It pleased Chris to know that this man held some respect for all the Seven beyond the duties they performed for the town, though he had made no response at the time. Tiny was not the kind to take offense at being seemingly ignored. Perhaps working so closely with mute animals had shown him that words were not always necessary but, along with several other folks in the town, Chris found Tiny's company easier from that day onwards.

With his steps light from the good mood that their Mexican visitors had not completely crushed, Chris turned away and found a Mexican dressed all in black approaching him. He recognized him as one the men who had come to his holding earlier, though the man had not spoken once during the confrontation. However, Chris knew, instantly, that - unlike the unfortunate Mexican whom he had shot - this man would be a force to be reckoned with. He exuded an air of quiet confidence that went far beyond the blustering posture of a man - such as Tophat Bob Spikes - trying to look like he was more dangerous than he truly was.

"Buenos dias, senor. I am Raphael Cordova de Martinez. My patron's son Don Paulo has asked me to kill you."

Chris grinned, feeling the silent bond that drew them together as gunfighters. Despite the words, Chris could sense that this order did not sit too easily upon the Mexican, though he could not quite understand why this Raphael should care less about a man his employer's son had told him to deal with. Perhaps it was because there was no reason for any confrontation between them. It was not as if the man was afraid to face Chris. Quite the opposite seemed apparent from the body language and brown eyes. Chris narrowed his eyes, finding that he was appreciating the leanness of the gunfighter, and the alluring dark power he exuded. He felt his body responding to the sexual magnetism, all the while knowing that he was having a similar effect on this man.

One other thing was obvious. The Mexican was not, necessarily, calling him out at this very moment. There was an air of curiosity surrounding Raphael that softened his words enough to allow Chris the option of putting off the immediate threat.

"Well, I appreciate the warning."

Chris walked past Raphael, keeping eye contact as he waited to see if he was correct in his assumption that Raphael was not interested in calling him out immediately.

"I would have liked to see more of your work."

"My work?"

He stopped, confused by the words, but Raphael sensed his confusion and responded immediately.

"With the gun. You are very impressive. Almost as good as me."

His dark eyes raked the length of Chris's body giving Chris the feeling that it was more than his skill with a gun that had impressed Raphael. He recalled that their first meeting had taken place not long after he and Vin had enjoyed each other's bodies, and Chris wondered if the subliminal effects of that lovemaking had given rise to Raphael's heightened interest in him. However, Chris was not about to ask him so he latched onto the final words and grinned amiably.

"I suppose I just have to take your word for that."

"Con permiso, Senor." Raphael grabbed a peach from a display barrel and he threw it into the air, drawing and firing quickly. The peach exploded as the single bullet hit it dead center. "Do you feel like dying today?"

Chris chuckled at the man's showmanship and obvious skill with a gun. "I feel like today is just as good as any other."

"Who knows what the day will bring?"

Chris grinned and walked away, strangely uncaring that this man might follow through on his employer's orders and make it Chris's last day on Earth. Despite the earlier call with the one named Alonzo, today *had* been a good day, and so if it had to be his last day on Earth then it would be a good day to die.

As he walked across the main street, Chris knew that this good feeling was an echo of his earlier encounter with Vin. The feel of Vin holding him, touching him, and thrusting deep inside him was still thrumming through his veins. His body felt so light, as if he was walking on a cushion of air with only the weight of his gun bonding him to the ground beneath him. He saw Vin seated outside the saloon, and he grinned. His smile faltered at the stormy look in the blue eyes. Chris frowned when Vin stood up and walked away without another gesture.

"Who shoved a stick up his ass?"

His lips quirked as he recalled the one he'd had up his own only short time ago, though that had come attached to his amazing lover. Chris shrugged, unable to let Vin's sour expression ruin what was still a good day; deciding that whatever was eating at Vin was probably nothing.

****

Vin stalked away after delivering a glare of Larabee proportions to the man he cared for most in this world. It angered him even more that Chris didn't even seem to understand what he was glaring about, but Vin had watched Chris and the Mexican perform their little courtship dance. He had seen the way the lean Mexican reacted to Chris's presence - and, what is more important, he had easily read the body language Chris used so naturally in response.

Vin cussed at himself, aware that he had no right to be jealous.

"Hell, why not? Why don't I have the right to be jealous?"

He mumbled under his breath as he paced along the length of the block. Vin stopped at the end of the boardwalk and slumped into a nearby chair. Chris was everything to him; the only reason why he stayed here rather than move on to figure out a way to clear his name.

"That's a bald-faced lie, Tanner. And you know it."

Chris was not the reason he stayed here for, until this moment, he had honestly believed that Chris would pack up his belongings and leave by Vin's side if he asked. However, after seeing Chris flirting with this Mexican version of himself, Vin was no longer so sure. What if he had been just a passing fancy to Chris? What if he had totally misread the look in his eyes whenever they were alone together?

"Can't believe that."

He thought back to only an hour or so earlier when he had looked deep into those pleasure-sated green eyes, seeing his own deep feelings reflected back at him. It was more than lust between them, more than just sexual desire. They had a bond that held them closer than lovers, and maybe even closer than blood brothers. It was a silent, unspoken bond; invisible and yet apparent to all who knew them, though few could see the true strength of that bond.

"Not even me sometimes."

One of the townsfolk stared at him strangely as she passed by, and Vin realized he was mumbling a few of his thoughts out loud. He flushed with embarrassment and was about to slip away when he heard the nearby altercation between Buck, Inez and the fancy Mexican who had ridden the impressive white horse. Vin drew the mare's leg from its holster at his hip and cradled the gun in his arms as he stepped up behind the one called Don Paulo.

"What the hell's going on here?"

No one paid any attention to him, except for the dark-clad Mexican that Vin had taken an instant dislike to because of his dalliance with Chris. Still, Vin could see that the man did consider him to be a little more of a threat than his rough-looking clothing allowed - though not by much. His eyes hardened to chips of ice, partially understanding why Chris had been attracted to the man. Not only did he look menacing in his understated yet sleek dark bolero jacket, shirt and pants but he was more astute than most too. The man was intelligent and, from the little gun show with the peach earlier, he was fast as well. No wonder this man had intrigued Chris, but it only made Vin dislike him all the more.

Vin frowned as he turned his attention back to the verbal match between Buck, Inez and this Don Paulo. He realized where the altercation was headed when Don Paulo asked if Buck was challenging him, and Buck called the man out.

"Easy now, Buckley."

Vin could see by the set of Don Paulo's shoulders that this was exactly what he had been goading Buck to achieve. He heard the relish in the man's voice as he dictated his terms to Buck and, from the corner of his eye, he saw the slump in Inez shoulders that told him this man had no honor in spite of his words. He had a bad feeling about this but knew that, of all of them, Buck was the one who was least likely to walk away when a woman's fate was at stake.

"Raphael, vamanos. Guillermo, watch her until this is over."

Vin watched as the dark-clad Mexican followed behind the fancy Don Paulo like a good dog and he gave a wry grin. At least his rival for Chris's affection now had a name: Raphael. Vin saw where Inez was headed and watched as Guillermo dutifully followed several feet behind. He ducked into the side entrance and intercepted the rough looking Mexican at the bottom of the stairs.

"You ain't following the lady to her room."

Guillermo stopped. He stared at Vin's implacable expression - one that was fueled by Vin's deep-seated anger at anyone working alongside this Raphael - and the Mexican gave a small accepting shrug. Vin followed Inez up the stairs, and some of his anger melted away at the resigned expression on her beautiful face. He could read her intentions clearly for he had seen the same look in the mirror on many occasions since being framed for the murder of Jess Kincaid. She was going to make a run for it, believing it was for the best for everyone concerned. Her next words confirmed it.

"I'm leaving. They can't fight over a woman if that woman is not here."

"Where you gonna go?"

"I will find a new town. Start over."

Vin gave a small smile, having made similar decisions in the past. He recalled the flight from town to town, accepting any work that would put some food in his belly and bullets in his gun. A piece of bad luck had brought him to this town; at least that was what he had thought at the time. He had lost his rifle after a rattler spooked his horse, cussing as it slipped from the saddle and bounced down the side of the mesa; the stock busting on the sharp rocks. Instead of riding on straight into Mexico, he decided to stop in this town to see if he could earn enough to buy a replacement. After all, what use was a sharpshooter without a rifle? For a moment, Vin wondered where he would be right now if he had not lost that rifle.

 _Probably hanged like a mangy dog and buried in a shallow, unmarked grave in Tascosa_ , he thought wryly.

"You sure that's what you want?"

"I had a new life here. New job... new people. Now... what choice do I have but to move on?"

Vin nodded wisely. It was why he had not pushed Chris into moving on with him. New job... protecting decent folk from the bandits and lowlife that liked to take advantage of frontier towns like this one. New people... Kind people like Nettie Wells, Mary Travis and Gloria Potter. Good people... friends like Josiah, Nathan, Buck, Ezra and JD... and then there was Chris Larabee: friend, confidante, brother, lover and soulmate, all wrapped up in one lean and handsome body.

He had been running for some time before finding these people but, since coming here, there had been only a few times when he had come close to riding on out. Usually this happened when the sins of his past caught up with him in the form of one bounty hunter or another. However, he quickly learned that having friends watching his back made him one hell of a lot safer that striking out alone. He knew, instinctively, that the same applied to Inez.

Vin thought about the arrogant and cruel man who had already chased this woman from one town to the next. He'd seen the type before; relentless in their pursuit because it was a matter of personal pride rather than a fistful of dollars at stake. From experience he knew that Don Paulo was a vindictive man who hated to lose, and he would never give up the chase.

"Wherever you are, he'll find you."

The remaining light in her eyes dimmed, her face taking on the bleak look of a lost child as she acknowledged the truth of his words.

"I know. What would you do?"

He knew his judge of men was better than average, only failing him when he became too personally involved in the situation. He also knew that his next words contained a silent promise to help her in any way he could.

"With people like Don Paulo... sooner or later you gotta make a stand."

The hidden words reached her and he watched as her eyes gained new resolve.

"Then I'll make my stand here." She raised her voice, allowing it to carry to the Mexican still standing near the bottom of the stairs. "Hear that, Guillermo? I'm not leaving. Go tell that to your boss."

Vin smiled gently as Inez walked into her room and closed the door behind her. It occurred to him that Chris had also dented Don Paulo's pride when he shot his man and then ordered Don Paulo from his land. If Don Paulo was vindictive enough then was it possible that he might order his men to kill Chris? Could this be why the one called Raphael had singled Chris out as soon as he rode into town? Perhaps there had been a lot more to that strange dance between the two gunfighters than met the eye. Perhaps Raphael had been calling Chris out, or informing him of his intention to call him out. Certainly, the man was dangerous and, from the small display with the peach, very fast too. However, would Don Paulo want his man to meet Chris in a fair fight? The fancy Mexican was a snake. Vin realized that he could not trust this Don Paulo not to have one of his men ambush Chris, so the least he could do was keep an eye on one of the three men for the sake of both Chris and Inez.

He glanced sideways until he could see Guillermo in his peripheral vision, and then he raised his voice so it would carry to the man below.

"Better get used to seeing me."

****

Chris pulled faces as Buck shot at the bottles he had lined up moments before. Although he hit all of them, several shots had been a little wild, hitting more by accident than skill, and his draw lacked the speed and fluidity needed for a face-to-face showdown.

There had been a time when Buck had been a fast draw but his affable nature and, therefore, his lack of a mean reputation had meant he was rarely called upon to use that particular skill. And so it had atrophied. Chris knew Buck was quick enough when it counted against ordinary cowboys, but could he best a man who gave every impression that he might consider gun play an art form? Don Paulo looked like the kind of man who would practice for hours each week with his weapons of choice, whereas this was Buck's first practice at a quick draw in months.

"You know, Buck, I've known you 10 years, and every time you see a pretty woman, your brain drops right below your belt."

"Now, I thought we've known each other 12 years."

Chris had the good grace to look chagrined. He thought about the two years he had spent wandering alone after the murder of Sarah and Adam. At the time he had considered himself to be friendless, especially after he had driven Buck away with his anger and self-recrimination. He had been wrong to do so then, and he was wrong now in believing Buck had not remained his friend even through those bleak two years apart. Chris sighed, not wanting to get side-tracked, and he shook his head.

"Why you doing this, Buck?"

"'Cause he asked for it, Chris."

"And you're giving him what he wants."

Chris raised his voice in exasperation, not understanding why Buck would put his life on the line for a woman who would barely give him the time of day. It was not that Chris didn't like Inez. On the contrary, he liked her a lot. She was warm, witty, intelligent and non-judgmental, accepting every man who walked through the saloon door as equals - as long as they were a paying customer. He had no desire to see her dragged away from the town by this Don Paulo either. However, there were other ways to prevent that which did not rely on putting a man's body in the path of a bullet - with the exception of Don Paulo's.

"Oh, I'm gonna take him. You seen that fella? He's prettier than a heifer in a flower bed."

"That ain't no reason."

"Well, how about I got a reputation to defend?"

"You're willing to take a man's life, put your own on the line for your reputation?"

Chris was amazed. He thought Buck had matured beyond the need for macho posing. It was the kind of foolishness Chris expected from JD and not from a seasoned fighter like Buck. He thought about Buck's earlier assessment of Don Paulo and wondered if the fancy jacket and arrogance of the man had lulled Buck into thinking Don Paulo was just some young upstart who could be slapped down like a naughty puppy. Chris had stared along the barrel of his gun at Don Paulo, had seen the cruelty in the young eyes of a rich and spoiled brat. JD had found the Mexican Chris had shot - the one called Alonzo - out by the creek only an hour ago, and Alonzo had not died from Chris's bullet. Someone had knifed the man in the gut, and Chris had a suspicion that this had been Don Paulo's handiwork.

"I am just standing up for what is right. Now--"

"That's your pride talking."

"No! That's me talking"

"Someone's gonna get killed 'cause you're not man enough to walk away."

Chris didn't want to say that he was afraid that someone would be Buck. He didn't want to leave Buck with the impression that he did not respect his skills, but he realized - the moment the words came out of his mouth - that he had said the wrong thing. It wasn't a matter of pride with Buck. There was more to it than mere posturing to impress a woman who had spurned his every attempt to get her into his bed. Buck truly believed he was an Ivanhoe to Inez's Rebecca, saving the dark-haired temptress from the evil clutches of the Templar Knight. Chris sighed. If it had been Vin instead of Inez, would he have walked away?

Buck turned cold eyes on Chris, with his expression tight with barely controlled anger.

"Well, let me tell you something. Why don't you take your own advice? Walk away."

Chris nodded, knowing Buck was right and that he had stepped across the boundaries of their friendship. As much as it pained him to do so, Chris knew he had to walk away and allow Buck to make his own choices for right or wrong.

"All right, Buck."

As he walked away, he thought about the change in their friendship since Buck learned about his relationship with Vin. There had been harsh words from Buck in the beginning; words that almost drove a wedge between Chris and Vin when he had ordered Vin to let him deal with Buck alone. To placate Buck he had ridden out to Landen, honestly believing that all they needed was a little distance and some time to put things into perspective. Of course, Vin had ridden off in a fury and Chris had been forced to leave the town before he could explain it all to his lover.

Chris chewed thoughtfully on his lower lip as he rounded the corner and headed for the saloon. He still had nightmares where they had left him to rot in that terrible prison outside Jericho because, in their fury, neither Vin nor Buck had come looking for him. He shook his head in annoyance. The nightmares were foolish. Not only had they come for him - and to rescue him from his false imprisonment and the cruelty of the Warden - but they had used their fear for his safety as a means of bridging the canyon that had opened up between them.

The weeks that followed had held a somewhat uneasy truce as each of them scrabbled to find a comfortable place within this strange triangle of friendship and Chris was surprised when none of the others had remarked on it. Eventually, everything had settled down, once Buck realized that Chris and Vin's interest in men had no impact upon his relationship with them. If anything, Chris had a feeling that Buck was put out that neither he nor Vin were attracted to him, recalling his exclamation that maybe his animal magnetism only worked on the ladies.

Chris pushed through the batwing doors and settled in the closest chair, though his mind was still too caught up in the events of the past and present to notice that he was placing his back to the entrance. When he did realize, he started to rise out of his seat and then spotted Vin leaning against the far corner of the bar. Vin gave him a slight nod and a half smile that told Chris he was watching his back, and Chris sighed in relief that Vin had gotten over whatever it was that had riled him earlier. He settled back down into the chair and nodded his thanks when Inez placed a full plate, a shot glass and a bottle of whiskey in front of him.

Chris dug into the meal, suddenly realizing how hungry he was as he hadn't eaten since before sun up. Normally that wouldn't have been much of a problem but he'd worked hard on the shack under the hot morning sun before using up even more of his strength with Vin. Chris wriggled slightly in his seat, still feeling the slight burn from where Vin had sunk deep inside him. He dashed a quick glance across the room at his lover, dropping his head back to hide his smile of pleasure when Vin struggled to keep his own grin from spreading across his face.

It occurred to Chris that he'd never shared such a strange bond with another before. Not even with Sarah had he been able to share all these rich thoughts with just a single glance. It was if there was a link between him and Vin, one that stretched across the length of the saloon like a silken thread to bind them together in their own silent world. As he took another mouthful of beans, Chris thought about Raphael Cordova de Martinez and the flare of attraction that had filled him momentarily. He could not deny that there was something about the man that called to him. However, it was a shallow feeling, one of the flesh alone whereas with Vin, he had felt the connection of this silent bond from the moment their eyes met across the main street.

His thoughts were interrupted as JD dropped into the seat beside him, drawing him back from the past and into the present predicament concerning Buck Wilmington.

"Chris? Well, is Buck gonna go through with this?"

"Yeah."

Chris grimaced and shoveled another forkful of beans into his mouth, knowing there was nothing he could say or do to deter Buck from this madness. He had to accept that there were times when a man had to choose his own path - and for Buck, this was one of those times. All Chris could really do now was stand by him and make sure it was a fair fight.

"Good. Come 1:00, that Don is gonna get dusted."

Chris sighed as JD rattled on, realizing that certain knowledge only came with experience and maturity. He knew what Buck could do, had seen him handle a gun enough times to know how fast and accurate he could be, but this Don Paulo was an unknown entity. All Chris had to go on was his instincts, and they told him that this was no overconfident upstart - like the spoiled and murderous Lucas James who had shot down Virgil Potter in cold blood. He had the feeling that this man had the skill to back up the challenge he had forced upon Buck.

"You know what I'm saying is that Buck's gonna take this--

Chris heard the batwing doors opening carefully behind him and flicked his eyes up to see Vin straightening slowly. However, he recognized the soft clinking of the Mexican's spurs and the scent of cigarillos that drifted across on the breeze through the doorway. It was Raphael, and no matter what others might believe, Chris knew this was a man of principle and honor.

"He's not gonna shoot me in the back, JD."

Chris poured whiskey into the unused shot glass and pushed it across the table in a welcoming gesture. He watched covertly as Raphael slid into the seat and removed his hat.

"Just what I was looking for. Salut."

Raphael drained the glass in a single swallow and placed it back onto the table. Chris felt the urge to look in Vin's direction, to see whether the presence of this man was in some way responsible for his earlier foul mood. Certainly he could feel the tension rise in the saloon, and he could sense a deeper and darker emotion reverberating along this strange bond he had with Vin. Vin's piercing blue eyes had taken on the intensity of a hawk sizing up its next meal. It was a clear and strong warning to anyone with sense enough to see, and he knew Raphael was astute enough to have picked up on it.

Nonetheless, Chris could understand why Raphael had sought him out again. It was not for intimidation but merely for taking the opportunity to sit awhile with someone of a similar disposition; someone who fully understood the life they both led. However, JD had other thoughts, his close friendship with Buck and his youth coloring his words.

"Now you can leave. You're against Buck Wilmington, you're against me. Who the hell do you fellas think you are, anyway?"

"We are men who value integrity more than insolence." Chris heard the quiet warning but JD was bristling with self-righteous anger. Raphael made the warning clearer, speaking to Chris with a deceiving nonchalance that told him he was expecting Chris to put JD back on his leash or see him dead. "Is this chiquito as fast as you, Senor?"

JD stood up with his hands curling close to the twin colts holstered at his waist.

"Why don't you find out for yourself, Senor?"

"Whoa, JD." Chris stood, standing close enough to obstruct any gun play. He reached out to JD and gave him a gentle nudge, hoping the kid had enough respect for him to obey this once. "Just go get some air. Go on."

Fortunately, JD swallowed his anger and moved his hands away from his guns. However, as he reached for his bowler, Raphael snatched it from the table, threw it into the air, drew and fired several rounds into the hat keeping it high in the air until he had emptied his gun into it. Chris flicked his gaze to Vin, having seen his lover take a few more steps forward with his fingers closing around the handle of the mare's leg, and he saw Vin stop and then back off a single step. Chris knew this was mostly posturing on Raphael's side - just as with the peach - but, this time, it had the desired effect for Chris saw realization and respect fill JD's bright hazel eyes. Raphael was fast. Even seated and with a table hampering his movements he had drawn as fast as JD at his best. His own respect for Raphael grew another notch as JD became subdued, filled with the knowledge that this man had given him the opportunity to walk away despite his challenge. They all knew that, standing face to face in a fair fight, there was no doubt that Raphael would have bested JD.

Chris watched as both men left the saloon and walked off in different directions, feeling proud of JD for being man enough to take his bullet-riddled hat and walk away. He sighed. If only he could have persuaded Buck to do likewise. He sat back down and stared at the meal that had since grown cold, shoving the remains aside in frustration. A familiar buckskin coat filled his vision and he waited for Vin to sit down in the chair JD had vacated. Chris considered filling the single glass that Raphael had used and offering it to Vin but, some how, he had the feeling that Vin might consider that an insult. He was about to attract Inez's attention when Vin placed two clean glasses on the table. Chris grinned and poured a generous measure into each.

He raised his glass between thumb and forefinger and silently toasted Vin, enjoying the glow of pleasure that lit the deep blue eyes from within. With eyes locked together, they swallowed the contents, hissing as the rough liquor burned its way into their bellies. An increasing buzz around the saloon warned them that the spectacle in the main street was about to begin, and they climbed slowly to their feet to follow the crowd outside.

Vin slipped away from his side to stand beside Ezra while Chris leaned against the upright just beyond the door of the saloon. He watched as Don Paulo and his man Guillermo paraded through the main street to where Buck was waiting. Guillermo carried a long, well-crafted box and he stopped beside his employer and opened the lid to display the contents to the people present.

"Now, you hold on there, fancy pants. Nobody said anything about swords. Now, around these parts, a fight is a gunfight."

Chris felt his heart sink in his chest. So this was why the snake had demanded the choice of weapons, wanting to ensure he would be the one to win this challenge by choosing one that no ordinary cowboy would be skilled in; a weapon that belonged to officers and gentlemen.

"No, Senor. You challenged me. The choice of weapons is mine."

"Says you. Now, what if I say no?"

Chris felt his hopes rise that Buck had come to his senses and would be man enough to walk away from a fight that he could not win. However, Don Paulo could smell victory against an easy prey, his sadistic nature wanting to taste another man's defeat at his hand so he goaded Buck on.

"If you admit defeat, the woman is mine. I shall take her, and we shall leave."

"That ain't gonna happen."

Chris's eyes widened in shock. Vin never said anything he didn't mean, and if he was saying Don Paulo would leave this town empty handed then that was his intention. As usual, strangers ignored the scruffy-looking, softly spoken man, unable to see beyond the buckskin coat, cavalry hat and long hair that decried him as a tracker and buffalo hunter. They did not see the intelligence and determination so cleverly hidden behind those startling blue eyes. They did not know that this man had hunted down others for a living, that he had a sharpness of hearing and eye, and the training of the Kiowa and Comanche to make him a formidable enemy. Some of the respect Chris held for Raphael ebbed as he realized this man had fallen into the same trap of not taking Vin seriously. He watched as Buck eyed the highly polished sword with intrigue, almost missing Ezra's blunt words.

"We'll figure out another way out of this, Buck. Stand down."

Chris knew Ezra had cash riding on this fight between Buck and Don Paulo, but that was when they had assumed it would be a stand-up gun fight. He was glad to hear Ezra would throw all that away and put Buck's life first. Not that he had expected any different, but hearing those plain words coming from the usually verbose Ezra would, hopefully, make a difference.

Buck reached for the sword offered to him, staring along its highly polished blade to the elaborately carved guard. For Chris, the sight brought back old memories. He had been around JD's age when the Civil War began and, having spent the intervening years - since leaving his father's Indiana farm - working as a cowboy, he had leaped at the opportunity to leave that hated life behind. He had enlisted in the Union ranks, learning the ugly truth about war soon after. During the war, Chris had watched the officers practicing their fencing, amazed by their grace as they lunged and danced around each other with a fleetness of foot that he had not noticed in them before. He could still recall the glint of silver metal and the clashing of sabers. He could hear the whoosh as a sword sliced through the air followed by the ringing sound of metal on metal as they parried and thrust.

"Well, Senor?"

Chris held his breath, then closed his eyes and walked away when Buck refused to consider the advice of his companions, seeming hell bent on destruction.

"Well, they're just long butter knives. We would wear out our boots before we do any damage with those."

He walked back into the saloon and poured himself another whiskey, emptying the glass of its fiery contents in a single swallow and grimacing. The doors swung open as the patrons returned to their drinks but Chris ignored them, only looking up when Vin dropped back into the seat opposite.

****

Vin poured a whiskey and downed it in one, clenching his teeth as the rough liquor settled uneasily in his empty belly. He knew he should have joined Chris from the start instead of leaning against the bar and watching his lover eat from a distance. However, he had still had issues to resolve, mainly concerning the one called Raphael and his intentions towards Chris. When the Mexican gunfighter had entered moments later, Vin had felt himself bristling just as hard as JD, but one look from Chris had warned him to stay back. That look had also told him that his fears of Chris moving on with this man - and without him - were groundless. Neither of them could deny that Chris had felt some attraction to the other gunfighter, but Chris made it quite plain to Vin with that single look that there had been no choice to make between him and this Raphael.

Having resolved his own foolish fears, Vin could only stand and watch while Buck took up a challenge that no sane man would accept. He looked across the table at Chris, seeing the same thoughts concerning Buck mirrored in the green eyes. Guillermo entered the saloon and Vin watched as he settled into a seat just to one side of the window where he would have a clear view of Inez as she worked behind the bar. It seemed the man was still under orders to watch over her to ensure she did not try to run again. In the background, Vin could easily separate Inez's dulcet tones from the lower male voices as she tried to continue on as if nothing had happened. He could hear her cajoling customers into buying more drinks, and sassing them when they tried to take advantage of her. She had been in the town only two weeks but Vin knew she had already made this place her home. He had even seen her talking quietly with Mary Travis after discretely following her to the church to make sure Don Paulo's men did not snatch her when they thought no one else was watching.

He thought about her predicament, realizing how closely it had followed his own.

He knew what it was like to run from town to town; never allowing yourself a chance to get to know anyone because it made it harder to move on when the time came. It had made for a lonely existence, but he had endured it stoically, and for longer than Inez. However, he was more disposed to being alone than her. Where he liked to hide in the shadows and keep to himself, she thrived in the light, basking in the company of others. How much harder would his life have been if he had been born with Buck or Inez's need for the constant ebb and flow of human contact? Would he have survived those years if he had not been the kind to shun the company of strangers?

Vin looked through the window at the street that lay beyond this dusty, scruffy saloon.

What was it about this particular town that enticed people to stop running? What was it about this place that made them decide to stand their ground here? He had stopped, and so had Lydia and the other working girls, and Mary's son Billy, and now Inez.

Had it always been this way?

Vin thought back to his first week in the town. Mrs. Potter had cajoled her husband into giving him work sweeping the dust from the floors, and had even found him extra work at Watson's store doing the same. They were good people, and he had been grateful but, still, he had not intended to stay. He'd only meant to hang around until he could afford to pick up a rifle to replace the one he lost, and then he had planned to ride on into Mexico, and maybe all the way down to Brazil if it came to it.

He had stayed because of six men - and one in particular. He had stayed because of Chris Larabee, and Chris had stayed because of him. Both of them had needed a respite from the lonely lives they had led. Both of them had found some small measure of security with the five others who made up the Seven protectors.

Had this been the case for all of them? Josiah and Nathan had been in town several weeks before Vin arrived but would they have moved on if they had not met the others? Vin gave a quirky grin, knowing that Nathan would have moved on to a higher existence if he and Chris had not made the decision to stand up for him. But Josiah, Ezra and Buck? All three had led a nomadic life before coming here; moving from town to town, searching for who knew what. And JD, leaving his Eastern roots behind, coming West to find a new life after his only link to his former life - his mother - had died. Had he come here looking for a new home and family? Had he found it with this mismatch bunch of gunfighters, gamblers, ex-priests and healers - and one tracker and ex-bounty hunter?

What of Lydia and her Girls? They had come here after Chris had stood up to Wickes on behalf of Buck and one of the abused girls, hoping he would do the same for them too. Billy had placed his young life and his trust into Chris's hands, hoping he would chase away the devil that haunted him by both day and night.

As Vin looked across the table into the soft green eyes, he knew that Chris had often been the catalyst in people's decisions to stand and fight, but the final decision to stay had not lain with him alone. Lydia, and now Inez, had made their stand because of Seven men who were willing to stand up beside them in their hour of need. This was why he stayed too, for he knew that he could move on - and that Chris would follow - any time he wanted. Like Lydia, Billy and Inez, he stayed because he had found a relatively safe place here with these six other men.

"Doing a lot of thinking there, Pard."

Vin smiled into the inquisitive eyes, knowing that the easy words were encouraging him to share some of those thoughts. Vin flicked his gaze around the crowded saloon, aware from the loud chatter that people were too excited by the events of the day to be eavesdropping on anything he had to say to Chris but, still, his thoughts were personal. As much as he wanted to share his insights with Chris, he wanted to do so in privacy, with the two of them lying sated in each other's arms and just the glow of lamplight or campfire to increase the intimacy.

Chris seemed content with the unspoken answer to his unasked question, accepting Vin's silent promise to share those thoughts when they were alone. He poured a whiskey and sipped at it slowly before changing the subject.

"Where's Buck now?"

Vin stared out of the window once more, recalling the sight of Buck and Josiah heading off together.

"Over at the church with Josiah, practicing with that fancy sword."

"It's a rapier. One of the officers I served during the war used to practice his fencing whenever he could. And he was partial to that particular sword because it had a razor-sharp edge as well as a wicked point. Some of the other officers preferred their sabers, and others like to fight with epees... these real thin swords that were more like metal sticks with sharp points."

Vin smiled and poured himself another whiskey. Chris rarely spoke of the past, only revealing pieces as a way to illustrate the present. He thought about Chris being in the war. Chris was maybe ten years older than he so Chris would have been just a little older than JD when the war ended in '65. He knew from other times similar to this that Chris had not come from a well-heeled background. There had been no family fortune or high-bred name, and so there had been no automatic enlistment at West Point. He had been a farmer's son, so he would have joined the ranks as a foot soldier - as cannon fodder. Buck once mentioned that Chris had been pretty wild when they first met so it was unlikely that he'd have made officer even by the time the war ended. Though it would not have surprised Vin if Chris had worn corporal or sergeant stripes by the time Smith surrendered to Canby back in '65.

"You reckon Buck can take him?"

"No. Despite what Buck believes they ain't just long butter knives, and just like any weapon, a man needs years of practice to get skilled at wielding a sword. Most likely Don Paulo's been trained by the best since he was old enough to hold a sharp stick."

Vin frowned, thinking of the skill displayed by young braves of the Comanche as they practiced with bow, knife and spear. A spear was another weapon a man could easily shrug off as a pointed stick until he saw the intricate moves and counter moves, feints and blocks used to disarm the enemy before driving that pointy tip into his gut. He let his imagination run wild for a moment, and considered how much more damage those braves could have dealt holding a long, razor-sharp sword. And then Vin thought of Buck facing one of those skilled braves.

"Damn."

"Yeah."

They drank in silence, sipping at the rot-gut whiskey while the rest of the world buzzed around them.

"You reckon you could take my spell at the jail? Promised I'd keep a watch over Inez. Make sure that snake don't try anything."

"Sure. I'll head over there now. Not much else we can do at this table."

Chris grinned mischievously, trying to lighten the air around them that still hung heavy with fear for Buck. Vin snorted into his whiskey while vivid images of Chris sprawled half-naked across the table came back to him. If he looked down he could see his thick, hard shaft disappearing between the firm ass cheeks. If he listened hard enough he would hear the soft grunts and cries as he deepened Chris's impalement with every thrust, stabbing him over and over with his own blunt sword.

He felt his face flush with renewed desire, wishing he could send all propriety to hell and take Chris over the table again. The blood rushed to his groin and he felt himself hardening. Chris chuckled and rose from the table, knowing what he had done to Vin.

"Damn you, Larabee. You're gonna pay for this."

He murmured just loudly enough for Chris to hear above the noise in the saloon, and then he swallowed his whiskey in the hope that the burning sensation in his throat and belly would, perversely, kill the fire spreading through his loins.

****

Just after dusk, Inez handed the saloon over to her assistant and wandered upstairs. She came down a few minutes later and left the saloon with her two shadows close at hand. Guillermo and Vin exchanged uneasy looks as she headed to the hotel where Don Paulo had taken a room. On entering, Vin saw that Don Paulo was seated alone in the dining room with Raphael standing close by; watching over him like a dark sentinel while he ate.

Vin frowned as Inez greeted Don Paulo with more respect than she had shown earlier in the street but it was soon apparent that she intended to exchange her dignity and freedom for Buck's life. Vin waited, wanting to hear Don Paulo's reaction to her plea, knowing it was her decision to make though he knew he would not allow her to abide by it. He had made a promise that she would not be returning with Don Paulo, and he fully intended to keep it.

As Vin suspected, the man had no intention of passing up the opportunity to slay such an easy target as Buck. He was bloated with lust for the coming kill, knowing that he would have his dead American cowboy *and* Inez soon after 8.00 tomorrow morning. Inez could see it too, easily reading the cruelty in the hard face. She pulled a gun, aiming it at Don Paulo's black heart. Vin reacted immediately, leaping forward to force the gun up into the air where it discharged harmlessly. He held her wrists tightly with one hand while he prised the gun from her with the other.

"That ain't the way."

"You've served me well, Senor. After all, I want Inez alive when I take her home."

"You'll be dead long before she goes anywhere with you."

Don Paulo glared at Vin, his sadistic eyes making promises that Vin would pay for his insolence but Vin was not one to be intimidated easily, especially by someone who, in his eyes, had no honor and so deserved no respect. He had stopped Inez only because he had not wanted to see her hanged for killing this dog.

Vin pulled Inez away, wishing there was something he could say to her to make her believe that, no matter what the outcome with Buck tomorrow, he would keep her safe just as he promised. If necessary, he would goad Don Paulo into a fight where Vin would choose the weapons. As he hurried her across the street and back to the saloon, Vin noticed that Guillermo did not follow. Instead it was Raphael who shadowed them.

Inez paused on the threshold of the saloon and turned to Vin. Her eyes were bright with unshed tears and he could see that she had so much to say to him but could not find the right words.

"Meant what I said. You won't be going anywhere with that snake."

She nodded once, forced to accept his words at face value in the hope that he *was* an honorable man beneath his scruffy exterior. Vin grinned wryly as she walked back inside, understanding how hard it must be for people to put their faith in someone who looked as rough and uneducated as he. It was an appearance he had cultivated over the years as a form of defense. He had hidden beneath the buckskin coat, hat and often a three day growth of stubble to fool the more arrogant into believing he was some simple cowboy who could be outwitted easily. That arrogance had cost many of them their freedom - and their lives. His grin widened as he followed her back into the busy saloon.

****

With all the excitement surrounding Buck, no one was in a mind to start any trouble so Chris found he had plenty of time to sit quietly and read in the jail house. He flicked through the book he carried with him, finding the piece of loose paper that marked where he had left off a few days back. Within moments he had immersed himself in a world of chivalry and political intrigue - of love and honor - as he read Sir Walter Scott's _Quentin Durward_ having already devoured every word of _Ivanhoe_ several times over.

The time past swiftly with night falling swiftly, and then JD arrived, slumping onto the desk and looking mournful. Chris raised one eyebrow, knowing JD was not the type to keep his problems to himself for too long so there was little need to prompt.

"Had a fight with Casey earlier. She got all upset when I said I wouldn't fight for her with no damn sword."

Chris sighed and, after carefully placing his makeshift bookmark, he closed the book and tucked it away in the pocket of his coat. He tilted his head to one side and gazed up at the pensive youth perched on one corner of the desk.

"She'll come round... especially after tomorrow."

JD winced, understanding why. "Buck can't beat him, can he?"

"Nope."

"Then why is he going through with this?"

"Because he believes it's the right thing for him to do."

"But you don't."

Chris grimaced, having forgotten how astute JD could be on occasion.

"No."

"Then why don't you stop him?"

Chris rubbed both hands over his weary face and sighed deeply, wishing there was a way he could dissuade Buck from this insane course of action without losing his friendship in the process. Still, it crossed his mind that he would much prefer a live Buck who hated him to a dead friend, but he had to respect Buck's wishes, just as he would expect Buck to respect his on those occasions when he was called out.

"He's got to do what he thinks is right, and we have to respect that."

For a moment he wondered whether he would be so respectful if it was Vin who was going to face Don Paulo in a sword fight on the morrow. JD hung his head, shaking it from side to side before looking back up to gaze out through the open doorway. He didn't seem to be in a rush to be anywhere in particular, and Chris knew that he'd had enough of these four walls.

"You staying here, JD?"

"Huh! Oh, yeah. Why not? Not got anything else to do except watch Buck practicing how to live an extra second with Nathan's help... and that sure is no fun."

"Nathan?"

Chris held up a hand, not really wanting to know the answer. He stood up and headed for the door, leaving JD to settle into the seat he had just vacated. The saloon beckoned to him with its bright lights and lively sounds but, as he drew closer, Chris realized he didn't really care much for company tonight, except for Vin's but Vin was already occupied with a self-appointed duty of watching over Inez. He sank into the seat just along from the batwing doors and leaned back into the deepening shadows.

A little while later, Inez hurried passed and Chris chuckled as he recognized the man Don Paulo had sent to watch her.

"Isn't this a little beneath you, following a woman around? Spying on her?"

Raphael stopped and looked extremely uncomfortable on hearing the light insult.

"I serve the house of Madera. Sometimes, serving the son is not the same as serving the father."

Chris straightened up slightly, realizing Raphael had given him a golden opportunity to add to the honorable gunfighter's discomfort by getting in a few digs.

"We make our own beds."

"I owe Don Paulo's father my life."

"Does that mean doing everything this boy tells you to?"

"It means... I do what is required."

Raphael stalked off, his shoulders tense, his fists clenched until the knuckles showed white and Chris knew why. He had no doubt that Raphael considered it an honor to serve the father of Don Paulo, but that respect did not automatically fall to the son. Chris could see that it was only this bond that held Raphael to the father that forced him to obey his spoiled and Machiavellian offspring. He silently wondered how much more Raphael would put up with before that bond stretched beyond its limits and was severed.

Vin came to a halt beside Chris and leaned back against the wall, his body tensing when Chris reached behind him to stroke the back of his thigh. He glanced down quickly, not wanting to attract any attention in case someone should notice what Chris was doing. Vin growled a low warning as two men stumbled through the batwing doors and spilled out onto the main street beyond. Chris withdrew his hand and Vin felt strangely cold, already missing the heat pouring from the warm skin and through the coarse material of his pants to the flesh beneath. He bowed his head, wishing he and Chris were many miles from this place - and all alone.

Visions of their encounter that morning swam in front of his eyes and, momentarily, he relived the sensation of plunging between the pale cheeks and into the hidden depths of his lover's body. His senses came alive, recalling the air filling with the scent of fresh sweat and the musk of sex intermingled. He heard the soft cries of passion falling from swollen lips, saw the body arching beneath him as Chris sought to impale himself deeper upon Vin. A sheen of sweat had glistened over the naked flesh, with fresh droplets trickling along the ridges of rippling muscle onto the table beneath him. The shabby undershirt had been rucked up high, exposing the flat planes of pectorals and the erect peaks of sensitized nipples. He could feel the solid flesh encircled within his fingers; the silken steel sliding through his hand, growing slippery as it was smeared with the droplets of passion beading from the sensitive head.

Vin sighed, mesmerized once more by the heaving of the strong body beneath him as Chris found completion. He relived the sight of Chris's seed arcing from him, splattering across chest and belly... and then Vin had become lost in his own full possession of that beautiful body, pumping his seed deep inside the hot channel that gripped him so tightly.

How could a day that had started out so perfect end so badly? Why couldn't they have been granted one whole day to love and cherish each other, and to strengthen the silent bond that already bound them so close?

At this moment, Chris should have been out at his shack... and Vin had planned to be out there with him, having completed his duty to the town for another day. They should have been finding other pieces of furniture to baptize with their lovemaking; a chair, the floor... finally falling into the oversize bed and sprawling across each other in soul deep satisfaction.

Instead they were outside the saloon, hiding their love in the shadows while they fretted on the potential loss of a good friend and ally.

"Why don't you head back to your wagon. Go get some sleep."

Vin glanced along the main street to where Inez had disappeared not long before with Raphael close behind.

"She won't be going anywhere tonight. He won't allow her to slip away, and Don Paulo sure ain't about to let anything spoil the entertainment he has planned for tomorrow."

"You're right."

Vin pushed away from the wall and slowly walked away, floating a "good night," over his shoulder but wishing it could be a whole lot more. He clambered into the back of his wagon, dropping his gun belt so it was still within easy reach and removed his heavy coat. Soon after, he pulled the covers over him and sank down into the welcome depths of sleep.

****

"You see all these people gathering to see Buck's fight?"

Vin's eyes swept the crowd but then he focused on a rough looking gang of Mexicans who had ridden into town only ten minutes earlier. He knew most of their faces from having had several run-ins with them during his bounty hunting days when he had waylaid his intended bounty in Purgatorio. Vin had seen them tie up their horses and, until now, they had been lounging around outside the hotel. After a long ride from Purgatorio they had to be thirsty, and yet none made any motion towards the nearby saloon. It did not bode well, and Vin could think of only one reason why they were here. They had been summoned by the fancy Mexican, Don Paulo. Vin pointed them out to JD and Ezra.

"Pico Chavez's gang."

"I don't imagine they're here to take a hot bath, either."

Vin snorted softly, wondering if any of Chavez's gang would live long enough to take another bath. He slapped Ezra on the shoulder and moved off, knowing he had to warn Chris of the new danger.

****

Chris stepped off the boardwalk and wandered across to intercept Buck, hearing the soft words of encouragement being uttered by Josiah and Nathan. He looked at the dark-skinned healer carefully, realizing how little he knew about the others. Even Vin was still a mystery to him in so many ways. One of these days he hoped there would be time and opportunity to delve a little deeper; to find out what made these men so special but, at this moment, all that mattered was Buck.

He had spent last night tossing and turning in his bed, reliving moments from the past. In the early hours of the morning, he had recalled their first meeting more than a decade ago. The war had been over for several years leaving many soldiers bewildered and lost; wandering the countryside looking for work and a new life. As he had no intention of returning to his Indiana roots, Chris had been one of those itinerant men, gradually building a reputation for himself for being a little on the wild side. He had always been fast with a gun, and his reputation began to spread, though some had mistaken him for another young gun named Johnny Ringold whose looks were, apparently, very similar.

Eventually, he had wandered into a small town just east of Tombstone having recently made his escape from the jealous clutches of a girl intent on claiming a marriage stake upon him. Buck had been a newly appointed deputy in that small town, and they had become friends instantly.

Chris paused to stare at Buck for a moment. Was it really twelve years since they met and became friends? And how many had they spent fighting, drinking and whoring side by side until he met Sarah Connolly? In all the time he had known Buck, he had never seen him willing to settle down with any one woman, though plenty had tried to trap the tall, handsome man. It was a shame for he recalled the way Buck had been with Adam, and how those big hands would hold his son so gently even when they were playing 'rough'.

Twelve years was a long time to be friends.

Chris had no idea what the future would hold, could not even predict the outcome of the next ten minutes but, one thing he knew for certain was that he did not want them to part with bad feelings still hanging between them. He stepped up and waited for Buck to acknowledge him.

"Chris."

"I know we don't always see things eye to eye, but I stand by you."

"All right."

The affectionate look in the blue eyes warmed Chris, strengthening the bond of friendship that Chris believed had frayed once more due to his earlier harsh words. He gave a small smile in response.

"You ready?"

"Not even close."

Chris dredged up another small smile from somewhere deep inside, glancing across as Vin came to stand on his right.

"We got company."

The low, gravely voice sent his gaze traveling, surreptitiously, through the gathering crowd and then higher to take note of the shadows on the rooftops and balconies. Chris looked back as the crowd parted to allow Don Paulo to strut up like a brash peacock preening himself while his hard eyes mocked the people surrounding him.

"After I have had my satisfaction, my men and I will leave. I will take the woman... and no one will interfere."

The sound of guns cocking echoed around from high and low, but everyone's attention moved swiftly from the threat as, moments later, the sword fight began in earnest.

"Let's go, Buck! Get him!"

Chris joined in with the enthusiastic encouragement, watching as Buck moved with a grace that belied his tall and almost lanky frame. The smaller Mexican met his thrusts and parries with ease though Chris could see he was a little surprised that this would not be such an easy fight after all.

"Very impressive, Senor. I see you have been practicing."

"Just like whipping a mule."

Buck became overconfident, attacking when he ought to have defended, and he paid dearly as the rapier sliced across his thigh.

"Now I think you will not move so well."

Chris grimaced as Don Paulo stopped toying with Buck, his moves becoming far more dangerous as he slid under Buck's defenses and sliced him across the stomach and then across his right arm. He could hear Nathan telling Buck to end this but both of them knew Buck would see this through to the end. Suddenly, Don Paulo attacked again, and he swept the sword from Buck's hand. Buck hobbled backwards - wounded and defenseless - while Don Paulo stalked in for the kill. The law of the West was on Don Paulo's side so Chris knew he could not interfere, even though there was no chance of Don Paulo offering Buck clemency.

Inez knew this too and she broke from the hold on her and ran forward, distracting Don Paulo long enough for Buck to grab the razor-sharp blade and slam his fist into Don Paulo's face. The Mexican went down hard, shocked and angry that Buck had turned the tables on him so completely. He screamed out to Guillermo, ordering him to kill Buck but, with no clear shot, there was little Chris could do even though he drew his gun quickly.

A shot rang out but it came from the other side of the crowd, and the people moved aside in time for Chris to see Guillermo clutching his chest and falling dead to the ground.

"Raphael?"

Don Paulo's single word called Chris's attention to the dark-clad Mexican gunfighter whose pistol was still smoking. Then he saw Don Paulo's shocked eyes flitting around in search of the other men he had sent for, his mouth hanging open as he saw each of them dropped their guns and raise their hands in surrender.

Chris grinned as Vin's lithe figure rose up behind another of Don Paulo's hired guns and took him out of action. He dropped his eyes back to where Buck was barely standing, filled with pride when Buck offered Don Paulo what the other had refused him.

"You don't deserve it, but if you leave now... then you can live."

Buck dropped to his knees in front of Inez, turning his back on the beaten Don Paulo, but Don Paulo was not about to concede defeat. He drew a knife from the waistband of his pants and leaped for Buck's vulnerable back. Once more Chris was hampered by a lack of a good shot and could only yell out a warning, watching as Buck swung around and impaled Don Paulo through the belly on his own sword.

It was over. Don Paulo was dead... and Buck lived.

****

Chris stood on the boardwalk and watched as Raphael Cordova de Martinez mounted up. He could sense Vin's presence close at hand, though Vin was keeping his distance to allow him a private parting. Chris had figured out why Vin had been so angry, and he could not blame him for feeling threatened by this man even though there had been no need. In some ways it pleased Chris that this had happened. It had shown him how important it was to Vin that he be the only man in Chris's life. Even so, Chris was relieved that Vin had not responded with the all-consuming and unhealthy jealousy shown by that former lover, Ella Gaines.

"I could grow fond of a place like this, Senor, But after today, Don Paulo's father will put a price on my head."

"Where will you go?"

"Perhaps I will find six compadres of my own." Raphael gave him a knowing grin. "Care to join me?"

Chris knew that more was on offer here than riding on together. He sensed that Raphael felt the same physical attraction for him but this had made Chris realize that, though the physical attraction might be there, he did want anyone other than Vin. Nonetheless, Chris knew that they lived each day as it came, unable to predict with any real certainty if there would be a future beyond the next minute. This was particularly true while Vin had a bounty - and the threat of the hangman's noose - hanging over his head.

"Who knows what tomorrow brings?"

He glanced sideways as JD stepped up beside him, sensing the change in the kid's attitude since Raphael disobeyed Don Paulo and sided with them. He and Raphael greeted each other with far more warmth than the last time they met in the saloon. There did not seem to be anything left to say so Raphael pulled on the reins and urged his horse onwards. He looked back.

"Still, it is too bad for you and me. Now we will never know who is the faster."

Chris grabbed the battered bowler from JD's head, threw it high into the air and drew, rapidly shooting bullet after bullet into the already hole-filled hat.

"Magnifico!"

Chris grinned as Raphael galloped off, and then he turned to JD, indicating the now destroyed hat lying in pieces on the street nearby.

"You needed a new one anyway."

JD stared at him for a moment and then took out his gun. He shot the hat once, as if performing an act of mercy on a sick animal and then, together, they walked back towards the saloon where Vin was waiting.

Inside, the others were crowded around Buck, and Chris had to grin when Inez kissed the wounded man soundly, before insisting that they were now even. They joined the others, passing a whiskey bottle around the table long into the night.

****

The scrape of a boot brought Vin wide awake instantly, and with an uncanny ability he knew he had slept at least two hours. He listened as the sound was repeated, though it was much closer now.

"Vin?"

The soft, familiar voice whispered from just beyond the wagon, and Vin answered in an equally quiet tone, smiling as Chris opened the canvas just wide enough for him to slip inside. He crawled along quietly, just to one side of Vin, his hand bumping into Vin's body, and then he settled down, laying his head next to Vin's.

"Ought not be here, Cowboy."

"I know."

Vin turned onto his side and reached out to caress the tired face that was barely visible in the dark interior of the wagon, hearing a sigh of contentment as he stroked the stubbled cheek. His thumb dragged across the full lower lip, surprised when Chris opened his mouth and sucked on the callused tip. He felt Chris's hands fumble at his belt and gave his own satisfied sigh as Chris pulled his hardening flesh from his pants while cupping the soft sac beneath and squeezing gently. His own hand wriggled beneath Chris's clothing, mirroring the slide of flesh over hardened flesh.

Vin cupped the back of Chris's head, drawing their lips together, sealing their mouths and swallowing gasps of ecstasy as they quickly brought each other over the edge. Afterwards they lay in silence with the pleasure reverberating along their strange connection.

Vin thought, once more, of why people made a stand here and smiled. He had been right. It was not the place... and it had never *been* the place. Instead it had everything to do with the seven men who had forged a silent bond that was stronger than family, thicker than blood and, hopefully, would endure no matter where their destinies may lie in the future.

As he felt Chris slip into a light but restful sleep, he tightened his grip around the man held in his arms, and gave a silent prayer that his own destiny, like this bond between them, would always remain joined to Chris.

THE END


End file.
